


Meeting Like This

by going_going_gone



Series: Meeting Like This [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya and Gendry can't stop bumping into each other, Awkward situations, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Modern AU, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:16:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3866665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/going_going_gone/pseuds/going_going_gone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After letting off some steam one night, Arya decides not to see her mystery man again. Unfortunately, things don't go as planned. Part one of a series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting Like This

Arya had thought one night stands were supposed to be fun, uncomplicated. She thought they were supposed to be for letting off steam. But she couldn't even do that right. It would make Sansa laugh if it wasn't more likely to make her stare disapprovingly and tell their mother. Good thing she didn't plan on telling Sansa.

The boy was gorgeous, and that made her feel a little better about her situation. His eyes were bright blue, so blue the looked a little fake, and his black hair fell into them constantly. He looked extraordinarily strong, especially among the pretty boy frat-boys who’d swarmed throughout the party. Those weren’t just show muscles.

Arya had no idea what he was doing there. His accent outed him as a townie, and the way he dressed told her he was probably from Flea Bottom. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but this was one of Sansa’s college parties, and it was filled to the rafters with rich kids who’d never worked a day in their lives. He was out of place. Maybe that was what made her focus on him.

Maybe it was the five drinks she’d had.

For all that he was out of place, she was as well. Arya was a senior in high school. She was eighteen years old, and probably the youngest person in the building. Sansa had been gushing about this party for days, and she’d felt the need to ruin her sister’s evening. So, she’d shown up.

She hadn’t even done anything to upset Sansa before she locked eyes with him. And suddenly pranks seemed kind of boring. The force that pulled them towards each other was like a magnet. She had to crane her neck to look at him. She was a full foot shorter than him.

“Hey,” she shouted over the music. It was a horrifying mixture of bass and half-assed lyrics. Something Sansa would love.

He grinned down at her. “Hello.”

“Arya.”

“Gendry.”

“So- are you a student?” she asked. She already knew the answer, but thought it was better to make conversation than tell him everything she’d assumed about him. She wasn't exactly a master at manners, but Arya could be tactful when she wanted to be.

“As much of a student as you are,” he answered, still smiling. She thought it made him look sort of goofy, which was adorable.

“What do you know?” she couldn't help but responding.

“I know you don't look like you belong here.”

“Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“Depends.”

“Depends on what?” she wondered.

“On whether you feel insulted or complimented.”

Arya laughed. It was the sort that started in your belly, the sort that she only gave when she was with Jon or her father. Point for Gendry. In fact, with all this liquid courage in her system, she decided it would be very simple just to let him hit a home run.

“Complimented- definitely. So, would you feel insulted or complimented if I asked whether you were interested in leaving with me?”

“Are you 18?”

Conscientious, how intriguing.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I am. How about you?”

“That’s rhetorical right?” he asked, grinning.

“Just wanna be safe,” she said.

They shared a laugh, and Arya tried to lay her hand on his arm as casually as possible. All this banter had to mean she was doing a good job. The drinks she’d had were transforming her into someone else, someone who flirted.

And flirted well, she hoped.

“I’m 20.”

“Thank the Gods,” Arya snarked.

“Well, that’s out of the way,” Gendry proclaimed. His arm landed on her shoulder. The skin contact left her a little breathless. “Let’s head back to mine, then, shall we?”

“We shall,” she agreed. His hand slid to the small of her back, and he led her towards the front door. She prayed to every god there was that Sansa wouldn't see her leaving with Gendry. She could just imagine the fallout of something like that once her parents found out.

They stumbled out of the frat house and onto the street. Sigma Chi, as Aya had learned, had just recently moved into a completely residential area. She wondered how their new neighbors felt about loud music and wild parties at-

“What time is it?”

“Uh...1:30”

-at 1:30 in the morning, apparently. She also wondered just how ever polite Sansa could abide being a part of a nuisance complaint. This short visit to see her sister at College was revealing just how much a person could change with one new boyfriend.

“Do you live close?” she asked.

“Yeah. I don’t think I’d be here if I didn’t. This...it’s normally not my scene.”

“What is your scene?” she asked. He gestured across the street just before he led her off the sidewalk and over the pavement. Neither of them were steady on their feet, and leaning heavily on each other was doing nothing for their speed. Arya was surprised they made it across without getting hit by a passing car. Good thing it was so late. Or early.

“I’m not sure. All I know is that all those kids have more money in their wallets tonight than I think I’ve ever seen my whole life.” He glanced at her. “So was that the sort of place you’re at a lot?”

Arya guffawed, bending double. Thoughts of her as the sort of girl Sansa hung out was just… well it was just wrong. “Oh, seven hells no. I- no, definitely not.”

“But you were there tonight,” he pointed out.

“So were you.”

Nodding, he admitted, “Good point.”

The rest of the walk was much the same, them pecking out a few details about each other, but not really digging any deeper than the surface, until Gendry pointed out his apartment, which was only two blocks down and across from the frat house.

They hurried up the stairs, laughing much too loudly, and got to his apartment quickly. He fumbled with his keys even as he was warning her not to wake the neighbors. “I don't think you’ll want to do that,” he advised. She nodded, eyes wide.

As soon as the key turned in the lock Arya pounced. She pushed him through never letting his skin get more than a few inches away from hers. Hands moved over and under clothes, fingers stumbling over buttons. Gendry kicked his door closed behind them and tried to maneuver them towards his room. Arya resisted.

“I’ve got roommates,” he explained. She sighed in frustration. She just wanted him, wanted to be closer. She didn't want to take a damn tour.

“Carry me,” she ordered, returning her lips to his throat. He chuckled at the command in her voice, but followed it, sweeping her up bridal style. Gendry practically sprinted towards his bedroom, and Arya tried her best to distract him.

Her teeth were at his shoulder when he tossed her onto the bed. She growled, and she could practically see the material of his jeans tighten around his crotch. It made her grin.

“You’re a cheeky one,” he grumbled, glaring down at her, but her smile didn't budge. With his own growl, Gendry was on her, hands reaching for the hem of her shirt. She lifted her arms and the tank top slipped over her head.

Gendry’s eyes closed for a split second, and she loved the expression on his face. The way he was looking at her was beyond endearing, definitely sexy. She decided she wanted to see more of that look, so with a short, sharp tug, Arya tossed away her bra as well. His big hands reached out to palm her breasts lightly.

Arya shivered.

***

To say it had been amazing was sort of an understatement. It had been way more than amazing, but that didn't stop Arya from escaping before he’d left the shower the next morning. It had been the magazine on his night stand. Sansa’s face was on the cover. They’d gotten a shot of her and Joffrey leaving some sort of bistro Arya didn't recognize.

She wanted to blame her skipping out on Sansa, but it was mostly her own fault. She didn't want to be with someone who knew her family. Besides, why shouldn't she get a one night stand?

She was still thinking about Gendry when she got back to Sansa’s apartment. She flung open the door, ready for a show down, ready to lie straight to her sister’s face, but there was no one there. She ducked her head into Sansa’s bedroom, even took a peek in her roommate, Margaery’s room. No one.

“What the hell?” she swore, running a quick hand through her mop of chin length hair. She hadn't even gone through it with a comb yet. She was sure it looked a mess, but she didn't care. Stomping towards the kitchen she muttered about how irresponsible Sansa had become. It didn’t matter that the older Stark girl was only as absent as Arya had been. No, it was one thing for the wild wolf sister to act up, to make a few mistakes and fool around, but not perfect Sansa. Perfect Sansa did her duty and kept her grades up.

She certainly didn't date tossers like Joffrey Baratheon.

“Isn’t there anything to eat in this godforsaken place?” Arya shouted. She’d opened the nearly-empty fridge in sort of anything, even just milk, but had been rudely shown all that Sansa was capable of screwing. She moved to the cupboards, but all there were was several cans of peaches and a jar of peanut butter. Without bread, she didn’t want the peanut butter, and it was common knowledge that peaches were absolutely awful.

The jingling of keys in the lock made Arya tense. She turned towards the foyer, face twisted in a scowl, ready for either her sister or Margaery to come through so she could berate them.

It was Sansa, which Arya was glad for.

“Where have you been?” she asked, voice a few octaves louder than perhaps was absolutely necessary. If the flinch Sansa gave was a good indication, yes, it was a bit loud.

“Arya! What are you doing?” Sansa snapped, hand grasping at her own chest. She was wearing the same dress as yesterday night.

“I was waiting for you to finally show up. And I was starving!”

“What are you even talking about?”

“I’m talking about your empty kitchen!”

“Would you stop yelling?” Sansa asked. Her cheeks were reddening, and Arya knew what that meant. Sansa was definitely beyond angry. But so she.

“I’ll stop yelling when I’ve been fed.”

“Oh, shut up, Arya. I’m not going to let you starve!”

“How am I supposed to know that? You stayed out all night. Didn't text me, didn't call!”

“Arya, you are absolutely mad. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you are _not_ my mother!” Sansa hissed, turning away from the archway into the kitchen and hurrying off towards her own room.

“You’re gonna feed me!” Arya called off of her.

She followed after her sister, heading instead to the bathroom, where she’d stashed her bag. Maybe she’d do something with her hair.

In the end all she could do with it was wash it and hoped it dried flat. She changed though, into a pair of jeans and one of Jon’s shirts. Most of her wardrobe consisted of Jon’s leftovers, something she did so she could feel closer to him even when he was deployed.

Sansa pulled a face when she saw the outfit, but didn't say anything. Arya did the same. Sansa was wearing a bright blue sundress and a pair of sandals that looked like they might be a net.

“We’re getting breakfast, not meeting the Queen,” she grouched. She could hardly be blamed- she hadn't gotten a lick of sleep last night.

“I wouldn’t be caught meeting the queen in this, Arya. Gods, sometimes I don’t understand how you can even function.”

“Fairly well, actually.”

“Oh, shut it.”

Arya sighed, letting the bickering stop for the time being. The two would find something else to grouse about, but all she wanted as of this very second, was food.

They headed out and onto the street in front of Sansa’s building.

“There’s a cafe next door,” Sansa told her.

“How about some fast-food? I want an Egg McMuffin,” Arya announced.

“Are you kidding?” Sansa asked. She seemed genuinely confused.

“Uh, no?” Arya responded. “Are you dense?”

“We’re not eating at McDonalds for breakfast, Arya.”

“You really do hate me, don't you?” she snapped. Sansa rolled her eyes, flouncing off towards her precious cafe. Arya followed after her reluctantly.

It looked sickeningly sweet. The flowers out front hardly ventured away from the color pink, although there was a pot of baby blue ones right beside the door. The windows were decorated with lace and long strips of pastel silk. The two wrought iron tables outside were painted ivory.

“I think I might vomit in my mouth a little,” Arya quipped.

“Well, hold it until we’re inside, will you?” Sansa requested icily.

When they stepped inside Arya realised that it was only a little better there. The pastels were still ever present, but were intermingled with regular people colors. None of the employees seemed dressed particularly badly, thank the Mother. She didn't know what she’d expected. Little Bo Peep, maybe.

They sat down at a table tucked into the corner, next to the cooler. Sansa grabbed a bottle of water and Arya got herself a cherry soda.

“You’re drinking soda for breakfast?” Sansa asked with disdain.

“No, I thought I’d just let it get warm in my hand. You know, for fun.”

“Uh...may I take your order?” a voice asked. Both sisters looked up, and Arya felt her throat close.

Gendry. What the hell was _Gendry_ doing here? How had her sister brought her to the only place in all of King’s Landing where she was sure to see him again. She shot Sansa a look, trying to determine if she knew what she’d done. Apparently not.

“No,” Arya snapped, taking a pull from her bottle so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Arya, don't be rude!” Sansa admonished her. “Sorry about her. She’s sort of feral. Can I just get a blueberry scone?”

Gendry scribbled something on his note pad. Did he really need that to remember a blueberry scone? She knew she was being mean, but Arya didn't care. Or, she wished she didn’t care. Considering she’d just left him after a night of- oh, seven hells- passion, he didn't deserve her anger.

He turned to her. “Three banana muffins please,” she said curtly.

“Three, Arya? Are you kidding me?”

“I’m hungry,” she growled. Gendry’s eyes widened he shifted on his feet.

“Will that be all?” he choked out.

“Yes, thanks,” Sansa agreed.

As soon as he left she turned her blue eyes back to Arya. “Is there a reason you were being so rude?”

“I’m starving and you love to make small talk,” she supplied sulkily.

“I like to treat servers like people, you mean?”

“Oh, shut up, Sansa!”

They sat in tense silence, Arya fiddling with several sugar packets and Sansa taking several gulps of water until Gendry returned. He placed Sansa’s small plate before her, and then Arya’s. The muffins were larger than any she’d ever seen, but she hardly focused on them. She met Gendry’s blue eyes. He didn't look angry. In fact, he looked hurt, which made her both angry and guilty. Mostly the former.

“Be right back,” Sansa said, scampering off to the restroom. Arya felt the urge to call her back.

“Arya…” Gendry began, and she snapped her eyes up to his face, ready to explode on him with the first accusation. “Did I- did I do anything to upset you?”

She was caught off guard by the question. She hadn't expected him to feel bad. Actually it didn't make any sense at all. “Of course not,” she told him, voice sharp.

“Then why did you-” he began, but she cut him off.

“Don’t you know who I am?” she accused.

“Should I?”

She laughed. “Of course you should. I’m...I’m Arya Stark,” she explained.

“I...Stark?”

“As in Senator Eddard Stark? As in Sansa Stark, socialite of our hearts? Stark?”

“Yes, I know the name, thank you,” Gendry told her, clearing his throat. “You didn’t tell me your last name when we- you know…”

“There was magazine. My sister was… I just thought-”

“Thought I was trying to take advantage?” Gendry asked. His eyes looked stormy, he sounded offended.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“Sure you didn’t,” he shrugged, although he didn’t look very accepting.

“I didn't. I just didn't want you to know who I was. Who my family was…”

“That’s kinda stupid,” he told her matter-of-factly.

The surprise made her laugh. “Maybe it is.”

“Well, now that it’s clear that I had little idea who you were, and you think I’m drop-dead gorgeous-”

“When did we clear that up?” Arya asked.

“Well, last night, you seemed very responsive to my-”

“Shut up, stupid!” she laughed.

“Right, will do,” Gendry grinned. “But, might I ask for m’lady’s phone number?”

“And what will you do with that?” Arya asked. Play it cool, she told herself.

“Sell it online,” he suggested.

“Or you could call me. I’ll be in town for a few weeks.”

“I look forward to… to seeing you again,” Gendry said.

“Me too,” Arya agreed,reaching out for his pen. She scribbled her number under their order on his note pad. “Take good care of that,” she told him. 

“I swear it.”

“Swear what?” Sansa asked, sinking back into her chair. She looked extremely confused.

“Nothing,” Arya said, waving away her sisters question. Gendry raised a single eyebrow, backing away as the two girls began bickering again.

He’d better call, she thought.

 


End file.
